I had not gone more than a step or two before I was joined by Mr. Lavien, who moved along as though we had been by each other’s side all night. “Shall we?” he asked.
“I did not think you were invited,” I said.
“I know for certain you were not,” he answered.
We strode toward Duer, who was engaged in conversation with a trio of men, two of whom were unfamiliar to me, though I recognized the third as Bob Morris, perhaps the wealthiest man in America, in whose Philadelphia mansion George Washington lived and worked. An unapologetic speculator, Morris had grown rich off the Revolution and even richer in its aftermath. Even this capacious cormorant hung upon Duer’s every word.
Now that I had a chance to study him, Duer appeared even smaller and more fragile. He was as delicate as a statue made of glass, and his little body suggested smallness the way the night suggests darkness. I had the distinct impression of towering over him, though he was only slightly shorter than Lavien. Finely dressed in a trim suit of navy blue velvet with bright gold buttons, he was a dandyish-looking fellow, whose hair was cut into one of those unnatural short bobs then fashionable. It looked for all the world as though someone had dropped a pyramid of hair, from a great height, to land upon his head.
Upon seeing us, Duer turned to his companions. “Gentlemen, if you will excuse me. Even at such a pleasant gathering as this, there are unpleasant duties to which I must attend.”
His courtiers disappeared, and we had the great speculator to ourselves. He prepared himself to say something dismissive, something intended to introduce and conclude our conversation in a single stroke. I understood the look of determination upon his face, and I jumped in just as the corners of his mouth twitched. I would not let him take a position from which he would find it hard to retrench.
“I am sorry,” I said, before he could utter a sound, “if I approached you too abruptly the other day, sir. Allow me to say I have long admired you, if only from afar. I am also sorry if you have been troubled in the past by this fellow Lavien. He is troublesome, I daresay.”
“In the capacity of serving his master, yes, even though his master is an old friend of mine. Even so-”
“Even so,” I interrupted-always a risky move, but I aimed to show Duer I was more his man than he was himself-“there is a time and a place for everything and this is not the time for pushy Hebrews to be troubling men at so glorious a gathering. Do you know, Mr. Duer, that he has not even an invitation to be here? I know, it is scandalous. Oh, don’t look that way, Mr. Lavien, if we were to insert ourselves into a secret gathering of the high Pharisees, I am sure we would be made to feel as unwelcome as we must, alas, make you under these circumstances. So be so kind as run along, there’s a good fellow. Find yourself some unleavened bread and perhaps something porkless to put upon it.”
Lavien, who never betrayed a feeling without first calculating its efficacy, now wore upon his face a mask of anger and humiliation. We had discussed nothing in advance, but he allowed me to pursue my course without hesitation, and I could not help but think how well it would be if our partnership could be formalized. What great work we could do for our nation! I watched as he wandered off, demonstrating his fictional chagrin with countenance and body language. I, for my part, set aside my glass of wine.
“What is your connection to that man?” Duer asked me.
“Oh, it is a silly thing, really,” I said. “I have, through a series of obligations with which I shan’t trouble you, decided to look into the disappearance of Mr. Pearson-a favor for a friend of a friend of the gentleman-and that man Lavien has set himself as my rival. I believe he attempts to curry favor with Colonel Hamilton, and it is a most irritating thing to look upon. Now, I admire Hamilton as much as the next man, but he has been curious in his choice of whom to employ and, if I may be so bold, whom not to. Those first few months, when you were taking charge of things at Treasury, were the most productive, I think.”
He bowed. “You are kind to say so.”
I was quite astonished to discover how prone he was to flattery, but I knew it was a hand that must not be overplayed. “Not at all, not at all. Now, if you don’t mind, a question or two. I promise to make it quite painless, and you may always decline to answer. An easy thing between gentlemen-Christian gentlemen, I should say.” That we together could have the joy of drawing a circle on the ground in which Lavien could not step was enough to satisfy Duer.
“I shall do my best to help you,” he said.
“So good of you, but no more than I expected. Now, to the matter of Pearson. Can you tell me more about your dealings with him?”
“Oh, it is no great secret,” said Duer. “He and I did some little business together, and though Pearson was desirous of doing more, he was never to my taste. Our paths crossed most significantly over a matter of property. He had some investments in a project of mine to buy and sell and hold leases on the western border of this state.”
“You two dealt with war debt, did you not?” I affected an easy attitude, concealing the disgust I felt for a man who would cheat veterans out of their promise of payment when they had held on to their promissory notes for a decade or more.
“Among other things,” he said. “The profit in war debt has, of course, diminished since the Assumption Bill passed, but it was a way to make a little money a few years back. Now the money is to be had in government issues: bank scrip and other ventures.”
“Like the Million Bank in New York,” I proposed.
He studied me closely. “I have heard of that bank and I suppose it may be as good as any, but I have no specific knowledge of it. How came you to know of it?”
“A cousin in New York is an investor and urged me to invest there as well. He said it was a significant opportunity.”
“Any bank, if it prospers, is a good investment, and now that Hamilton has launched the Bank of the United States and plans the opening of more branches, I presume we shall see many more such institutions in this country. But while they can be an excellent investment, they can also be quite treacherous, like anything else. Witness your friend Jack Pearson. Nothing can be sounder than government six percent issues, but he has ruined himself in them.”
I thought about what that woman, Mrs. Birch, had said, that the house she rented from Pearson had been sold precipitously. I could not affect surprise, however, lest I alert him to my ignorance. Instead, I chose a kind of easy familiarity. “Is not ruined a bit strong? I understand there have been some reversals, but surely nothing so bad as ruin.”
Duer smiled, showing his canine teeth like a victorious predator. “Oh, he’s quite ruined. The world doesn’t know it yet, and if you count yourself a friend you shall not put it about, but it is the truth of the matter.”
What could it mean? What could it mean for his disappearance, for the efforts directed against me, for the unknown agenda; perhaps most important, what could it mean for Cynthia that her wretched husband, whose only worthwhile quality was his money, was ruined? To Duer I said, “Is that why he has vanished?”
Duer made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “It’s not a good vanishing he’s effected. Is that not Pearson over there, speaking to that very fat gentleman?” He turned slightly, and it seemed to me he did so in order to avoid being seen.
I glanced across the room to where Duer had been gazing and saw that it was indeed Jacob Pearson, drinking a glass of wine and nodding solemnly, but in no way gravely. He looked nothing at all like a man under a cloud of financial ruin. Standing only a little way removed, attached to the conversation but in no way a participant, was Cynthia.